


A Crest of Bygone Days

by tangypop



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - World War I, England (Country), Friends to Lovers, M/M, Party, Post-War, Post-World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23520892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangypop/pseuds/tangypop
Summary: In the years following the first World War, a retired lieutenant reconnects with his old brother-in-arms after the two of them meet again at an evening party.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Kudos: 26





	A Crest of Bygone Days

**Author's Note:**

> First Three Houses fic! Very glad to finally have it up.

The memories of fighting stuck in his mind, and he knew that they'd never fully go away.

Not for decades, at least, until he turned eighty and his mind would hopefully leave him. But the vivid memories from the war would stick with him until then, and Sylvain wasn't sure if he could handle living like that.

Almost everything in England right now seemed to center around it. All anyone ever talked about was death, politics, and money, and in all honesty Sylvain wanted out of it. He wanted to run away into the empty countryside never to return, but he knew it was inescapable.

His family kept pressuring him about nothing but being "the greatest soldier we have" or "the heir to our family fortune." No talk about his own personal interests, the girls he met, or anything to do with his friends, no, just war, wealth, and violence.

"Didn't you hear about our own Sylvain here?" his mother proudly patted him on the back and dragged him forward to whatever dinner guest was over that night. "He earned a medal at Verdun. Brave boy, he really is."

"Mother, I really wouldn't like to talk about this," he softly muttered, but she ignored his words. 

"He was only eighteen years old at that time as well! And a lieutenant! We really are a blessed family. Aren't we proud of you, Sylvain?"

He angrily pushed himself away from her and stormed off, refusing to stand there as a trophy to whoever this guest was. It had gotten to the point where his mother completely neglected anything else - even the fact that Sylvain's own brother Miklan had died in the conflict. As much as Sylvain didn't like him, he was gone forever now, and she didn't bat an eye. Her own son. His brother…

"Sylvain? Sylvain! Oh dear, come back," his mother gave the guest an apologetic look and hastily trailed after her son, making him just the more eager to walk away from her. He navigated his way into a vacant room within their huge English manor, realizing his escape was hopeless as his mother only continued behind him. After finally stopping, he spun around and irritatedly crossed his arms, facing her with a scowl.

"Sylvain! How dare you be so rude to our guests?" she scolded. "That lady is an Alves. She has so much money to throw around! You never know when she could feel generous someday."

"Mother, stop! I'm tired of all this. I won't flaunt around such things just so you can feel satisfied anymore or get money. Do you think I'm proud of what I did?"

"Dear, why wouldn't you be? You served well!"

"You wouldn't understand. I don't want to hear about the war anymore. I'm sick of it. It's over, and we should leave it that way. Go back and talk to her about business, or something, but I'm leaving. I wasn't forced to fight just to end up as some medal."

He hastily adjusted his jacket and started to march out of the room. His mother silently remained where she was, hesitant to follow now as Sylvain made his way out of the manor and into a buggy with a driver.

"Take me to somewhere other than this place. The nearest bar, if you can. Please.”

The driver nodded and drove off, Sylvain anxiously tapping his leg as he got away from his home. He was tired of his family, just exhausted of everything going on recently. If it were up to him, he would be out of the country in a heartbeat. Maybe he'd go to America, where he'd have all the flappers and parties and jazz he could have. Not all this depressing post-war environment that drenched Europe like pouring rain over a trench-coat.

The driver brought him to a bar not too far from the manor, and Sylvain eagerly hopped out and made his inside. It was muggy out, typical for an English evening— another reason he'd like to leave the place. Maybe in America they'd have nicer weather.

He walked up to the bartender and ordered a shot of scotch as he sat down on one of the vacant stools. The bartender promptly poured it out and gave it to him, and he quickly drank it and then waved for another. The man at the counter obliged.

"Sylvain Gautier? Is that you?"

As he was handed his next shot, Sylvain looked over to see his old friend and classmate Ingrid standing by. A surprising sight, especially at this little bar. She was hardly recognizable, and he squinted at first before realizing who had spoken.

Her long blonde hair was now cut short, and she had a look of maturity to her that she hadn't years before. Hell, if Sylvain didn't recognize her soon enough, he might've even started flirting with her without realizing who she was.

"Oh, Ingrid! Nice to see you here. It's been a long, long time." He downed the shot and set the glass down on the table. He had plans to get drunk tonight, and if his mother got mad, she had no one to blame but herself.

"It has. We haven't spoken since before the war, right? Glad to see you're doing so...well..." She trailed off as she watched Sylvain order and down another shot. 

"Glad to see you're doing well too. What have you been up to these years?"

"Oh, you know. Assisting in the war effort. As much as I could, anyways."

"Anything else?"

She shrugged and sat down on the stool next to him. "Not much else has been happening in the world."

"Don't say that," he sighed and waved to the bartender for another drink. "Tell me something else. Anything besides the war. Have you seen any of our other schoolmates recently? I've hardly spoken with them, save for a few. You're the first I've seen in a while."

"Ah, right... I haven't kept in too much touch either these past few years. Everything's changed. Though I recently did receive word from Annette about a class reunion."

"A reunion?" Sylvain inquired as he grabbed the shot glass the bartender gave him. "This is the first I've heard of it."

"You're invited. Everyone from the school is."

"Everyone? Everyone's still alive?" he huffed as he drank. "Surprising. I wonder how beautiful all the girls have become. Remember Hilda? Or Petra? They must be beautiful now."

"Oh, please. As if you'd care about their looks more than them simply being women. Sometimes I'm glad that I'm the only girl you act like a normal human being around, if this is... normal for you," she gestured.

"Consider yourself one of the lucky ones." The alcohol was finally starting to kick in, and he felt his shoulders relax as the tension left his body. "Where would this reunion be?"

Ingrid leaned an elbow against the counter. "I think at Dimitri's house. Have you kept in touch with him? I hardly have— he's... changed. So much."

Sylvain shook his head. "No, but I've heard about it from others. I'm not surprised; he's always been a bit... weird. A nice man, though. Felix always talked about him— remember Felix? I ran into him for a bit during the war. I haven't seen him since, though my father has talked about his family. His father's dead, I heard."

"Colonel Rodrigue. Right, he died in France. It's so sad. Now Felix's the only Fraldarius left." Her tone became sullen, though Sylvain wasn't really able to pay attention anymore.

"Right. When is it? The reunion. I'd like to go." He looked over, leaning his arm against the table to mimic her.

"In three weeks. Sylvain, something tells me I'll have to send you this information later. You should stop drinking."

Sylvain adamantly shook his head before waving for another shot. "Don't act like my mother. I'm only doing this to spite her. Hey, you remember Mercedes, too? She was gorgeous, I wonder what she's become now, huh?"

"She's joined a convent," Ingrid sighed. Sylvain's hand moved for the glass as it was placed down again, but she took it away, setting it aside.

"What? Ingrid, stop it. I'm paying for that."

"Be quiet, you'll thank me tomorrow morning. I know how you act when drunk, and I don't want any fights happening here. Just pay up and go home, we can talk again next time. At the reunion. I'll send you information."

Sylvain let out an exasperated groan, but solemnly nodded and paid the bartender.

"You don't know how to have fun," he said to Ingrid.

"Oh, please. Is this 'fun'? This is rather sad, if you ask me."

"Don't give me that judgement. My mother's just an ass."

"Whatever, let's get you back. I hate to cut your little solo drinking fest short, but this is for the sake of the other people in here," she said, and Sylvain mumbled something incoherent in reply. 

"Here we go," Ingrid grabbed his arm and walked him outside, where she pushed him into the buggy that was waiting by the curb. She slammed the door shut and moved to the front, where she told the driver to take him home.

"Be safe, Sylvain," she called after him as the vehicle began to slowly drive away. Sylvain drunkenly waved back, reminiscing about his life before his service as the car rolled down its path.

When three weeks quickly passed by, Sylvain found himself standing idly at the doorstep of the Blaiddyd household as well-dressed as he possibly could. He aimed to impress, and even though they were his old classmates, you never knew how well some of them could've aged. 

Ingrid sent him a letter with the information, thankfully, so he didn't have to rely on his hazy memory of that night to find out when it was. Though, Dimitri's manor was familiar to him- he had played here years ago when he was just a child. _Fond memories..._

"Ah, you didn't forget." He turned to see Ingrid slowly walk up behind him, dressed in somewhat casual clothes. A blazer, it looked like, and a simple little skirt. Nothing extravagant at all.

"Of course I wouldn't. I see you still have no idea how to dress fancily," he joked, and her pale cheeks tinted red.

"Hey, it's not my fault! I never wanted to be a lady or anything like that, so I don't have many nice clothes. If I could've served, I would've."

"Don't say that. You don't deserve to go through those things." Sylvain turned his head back towards the manor and gave a knock at the doors. God, it was hardly even a manor— this estate almost rivaled Buckingham Palace, if he was honest to himself. He never really could understand how Dimitri's family came to own such a extraordinary place.

A maid creaked the large wooden doors open and took a look at each of the two. "Sylvain Gautier and Ingrid Galatea?"

"Yes..." Sylvain was rather creeped out at how she recognized them. But she didn't say anything more, as she opened the doors fully and beckoned them into the grand mansion.

The three passed through the small entrance area (though, 'small' is not quite how Sylvain would describe it— just smaller than the rest of the house) and the maid led them to a grand ballroom. It was absolutely phenomenal; a vast hall with beautiful decorations everywhere, expensive food and refreshments, and the whole place full with faces Sylvain never expected to see past his time in school. Hell, he never really expected to see the Blaiddyd hall ever again, either, but there he stood, intact and filled with life. Throughout the war he had heard so many rumors of Dimitri being dead, but then he wasn't, but then he was, but then he actually survived. When he finally received solid news of the man being alive, he just shrugged it off. He already had mourned him several times at that point.

"Sylvain! Ingrid!" A voice called to them, and speak of the devil, they saw Dimitri gleefully walking over.

"So glad you could make it," he said, giving each a tight hug, and Sylvain nearly had the air squeezed out of him. He almost forgot how strong Dimitri unintentionally could be sometimes. He was also shocked at the man's appearance: an eyepatch, long hair, and much more sturdier build. What had this poor guy gone through? Sylvain never really saw him face-to-face in the trenches; he only heard a few rumors here and there. Rumors he never believed, though seeing Dimitri now made him reconsider.

"Nice to see you too," Ingrid happily replied to Dimitri.

Sylvain gave a nod, "Right, it's been a while. This place still feels like it did long ago."

"I remember those days," a warm smile fell over Dimitri's face. "I really am glad you two could make it, though. Mostly everyone is here."

"Mostly?" Ingrid politely inquired.

"Well," Dimitri crossed his arms awkwardly and huffed. "Edelgard and Hubert couldn't make it."

"Couldn't make it? Please. You didn't invite them," Sylvain playfully elbowed him. Dimitri cleared his throat and embarrassedly shifted his position.

"We have an unpleasant history, alright? Especially since the war... but none of that matters. I just want everyone to enjoy themselves now. Including the ladies, so spare them of all your flirting, Sylvain. Alright?" He gave Sylvain a sharp glare, but that quickly turned into a chuckle and he patted him on the back. "Have fun, you two. I still have to greet more people, but I'll see you around."

He walked off towards more guests, and Sylvain and Ingrid were left there alone to bask in all the overwhelming vibrancy of the place.

Sylvain's eyes rapidly darted around the room, almost surprised at the amount of people he remembered. Claude, Lorenz, Caspar, Ferdinand... hell, he even saw Bernadetta hiding out in the corner eating food by herself. It was strangely familiar, sending him back to his school days. Even some of the faculty were there! Shamir, Catherine, and even Seteth seemed to be spending time with their former students. 

His eyes moved to Mercedes, whom he noticed was walking up to the two, and she quickly enveloped them together in a tight hug before he could even realize it. "Oh, it's been so long!" she excitedly exclaimed. "You two have gotten so much older!"

"Thank... you?" Sylvain confusedly breathed out as she pulled away and giggled.

"It's so nice to see everyone again. I've only kept in touch with Annette, though I hope I can keep in touch with everyone else! How are you two— oh look, there's Dorothea! Oh, sorry to go so soon, but I have to go say hi to everyone! It's so great to see you two though, and I'll definitely catch up more after I see everyone!" she quickly parted and waltzed off to the next group of people, choosing Dorothea as her next victim to squeeze the air out of.

"Did she really join a convent?" Sylvain asked Ingrid in disbelief. "People really speak the truth when they say all the pretty girls are unavailable."

"She did. She's super faithful, and I'm glad she didn't start spouting religious verses all over us. Though, it's nice that she's found what she loves. She worked as a nurse during the war, you know."

"Huh." Sylvain watched as Mercedes moved from person to person, clearly very excited to see everyone. "She's so nice. Too nice, almost."

"What do you— Oh boy, here comes Claude," Ingrid suddenly interrupted herself, and Sylvain turned to immediately be drawn into another warm embrace. There was more physical contact here than he expected, he realized.

"Sylvain! God, you've hardly changed. You give off an older ambiance now, though. Still winning over ladies left and right?" he laughed and patted Sylvain on the back.

Sylvain pulled away to properly look at Claude— who looked a lot older now too, surprising him— and gave a defeated sigh. "Sadly I don't have as much time to party anymore like this. But who knows, maybe I'll find someone tonight."

"Oh, please. All the people here are old potato sacks who don't know how to have fun. Is it really considered a party when Hanneman is here?"

Sylvain laughed, "No, I guess not really. What about you, still playing pranks on everyone?"

"Not as much. Everyone's sense of humor has seemed to disappear—"

Claude was cut off by a sudden scream from Lorenz across the hall. He, Sylvain, and Ingrid all eagerly turned their heads over to watch whatever was about to unfold.

"Whoever put these fake roaches all over my food, I'll kill you!" Lorenz shouted, holding up one of the faux bugs. Claude rapidly looked back at Sylvain and flashed a devious smile.

"And that's my queue to leave. Nice to see you again. But unfortunately, I gotta go. Have a nice night!" Claude quickly made his escape down a nearby passageway, though it didn't seem to take Lorenz long to figure out who did it, since he started angrily marching over to that direction as well.

"Claude's hardly changed," chuckled Sylvain to Ingrid. "That's nice to see. The world needs more people like him."

"Oh, please. The world would be in absolute anarchy with people like him and you around."

"Would it, though? I fee like somehow we'd establish world peace. Not sure how, but we'd manage it." He looked over at her, but Ingrid seemed distracted. Her eyes lifted towards something towards the back of the hall.

"Hey, look. There's Felix." She gestured over to the sullen man, who was sitting by himself at a table and fidgeting with a napkin. "All alone. Not surprising."

"Oh! Let's go talk to him!" Sylvain enthusiastically took Ingrid by the hand and led her over to the empty table, carefully navigating through all the other guests. They sat down next to Felix, Ingrid on one side and Sylvain on the other, almost as if they were making sure not to let him escape. Felix looked up at both of them and grunted when he recognized the two, then leaned back in his chair and placed his napkin down.

"Sylvain. I'm sorry, _Lieutenant Gautier_. You survived. Pity."

"That's right, _Sergeant Fraldarius_." Sylvain chuckled. "When did we last see each other? In the trenches?"

Felix gave a solemn nod. "Right before you left to Verdun. And I to the Somme. Really fun and exciting time, huh?" He turned over to face Ingrid. "So you're doing fine, too. And so is the Boar. Our whole little childhood group somehow survived all the fighting."

"Indeed it did," Ingrid smiled. "What have you been up to these few years?"

"Living alone. Dealing with everything my father left behind. Trying to piece my old life back together. Nothing interesting. You two?"

"Living as a walking trophy for my mom. Having my father care more about his reputation than my safety. Working. Not much either," replied Sylvain with a sigh.

"I've... been working too. My parents have been pestering me over everything. Money, marriage, whatever," Ingrid groaned. "Life has been dull and just straight up depressing."

"It has," agreed Felix.

"That just means it can only get better, right? Especially with our group back," Sylvain gave Felix a nudge. Felix just rolled his eyes.

"Tell yourself that. Especially when everything in our damn country revolves around tragedy."

"Well, can't disagree with that," shrugged Sylvain. "Though maybe the two of us have been wallowing in melancholy for too long. This party so far has made me realize how much everything's changed for the better."

Felix looked Sylvain in the eye. "That's just what it seems. Dig down deeper, and you'll find everyone's just putting up a front. They've all lost something, but they're too afraid to face it. Maybe you and I are the only ones willing to admit defeat."

"Well, getting drunk isn't any way to improve, believe me," Ingrid poked at Sylvain, who defensively held out his hands.

"That was one night. If I hadn't gone out, I might not even be here!"

"There's no way to 'improve' from this, either, Ingrid," Felix huffed as he grabbed his own drink and took a sip. "It just is. And we can't do anything about it."

The party went on into the evening, Sylvain reconnecting with even more old friends and overall having a nice time. He learned a lot of new things about them— Dedue had nearly sacrificed himself for Dimitri, Dorothea was now a semi-popular singer, Ignatz had become a painter— everyone seemed to have changed for the better. Everyone except Sylvain himself, who couldn't sleep during rainstorms anymore and who apparently forgot how to flirt with women. He felt like he was in a cage, unable to be the man he was before the war. He just wanted some way to move on.

"You should come to my place sometime," Felix told him after hearing this semi-drunken ramble. They sat alone at a table, Ingrid having been dragged off by Annette and Mercedes midway through the party against her will. "It's boring, but peaceful. Just me, the maid, and the chef. You're always allowed in."

"Maybe I will. Better than my parents sticking around."

"Why don't you move out?"

"I can't," Sylvain groaned. "They won't let me go until I marry a girl they approve of. I've considered giving up and marrying Ingrid; I don't love her like that but there's no harm in a friend. My parents like her, too. But you know, she's still a bit wary with romance since... your brother..."

"She's grown. I'm sure she's over it." Felix sighed. "Don't just marry a girl out of convenience, though. I want Ingrid to be happy too."

"So do I." Sylvain shook his head after a moment, "But I don't know. I don't know what I want anymore."

"Life does that to you. We'll figure it out eventually."

The two sat together for some more time, though the party ended shortly after that, and Sylvain was driven back home alone. The whole ride, he thought about his old classmates and what they had become. It was a shock to him, really, to see them all like this.

When he finally arrived home and reached his room, he tiredly threw himself onto his bed and pondered on what Felix had told him before and the offer he was given.

Maybe he would visit him. Reconnecting with an old friend was nice, not to mention the memories stored in the Fraldarius manor. He could spend time with Ingrid too, and Dimitri as well. It would be like the old days, from before the fighting started or even before they entered the academy.

 _The old days_. Sylvain found himself thinking too much about them recently. He knew it wasn't healthy to always wallow in the past, but sometimes it was all he had. With an uncertain future and unchanging present, the past was all he knew anymore. And it would also be the end of him, he decided as he curled up in his bedsheets.

A week or so passed until he remembered Felix's offer again. Felix had told him he was always welcome, so with that confirmation he assumed he could just show up unannounced.

Standing outside of the Fraldarius estate aimlessly, Sylvain slowly took in the whole scenery of the place. He hadn't been here since his academy days, and even then he didn't tend to visit that often. He remembered this place the most from when he, Ingrid, and Dimitri would run around and play as children. He could recall Felix being quite a happy kid back then, before everything went wrong. Before they lost Lambert, then Glenn, and now Miklan and Rodrigue. Their lives really had changed.

Sylvain walked up to the large doors of the estate and knocked, hoping at least someone was home. A second passed until a maid opened them, greeting Sylvain with a bow. She looked familiar; an old lady that Sylvain probably saw when he was younger. Not surprising that she still was loyal to Felix.

"I'm sorry to say that Mister Fraldarius isn't home right now. Though I could tell him of your visit."

"Oh, sorry," Sylvain replied, "Felix just told me I could come over at any time."

"Oh, Mister Gautier? My, you've grown so much since I last saw you! You served for the country like Mister Fraldarius, didn't you? And you're an adult now! Yes, he did say you could visit at whatever time. Come in, come in."

She excitedly led him inside, and Sylvain slowly wandered through the doors and into the large manor. It was still the same, after all this time. The immediate wave of nostalgia that hit him right then hit hard, and suddenly he was a child again exploring the huge halls of the Fraldarius's house.

"Make yourself as comfortable as you need. I assume I can trust you on your own; I'm going to be doing gardening work outside. Just find me if you need anything." The maid walked away, leaving Sylvain alone to bask in the memories that filled his head. He gradually looked around.

There was the bookcase Sylvain had climbed up when younger, when Felix stood by and watched as he was too scared to follow. Or the painting on the wall that Dimitri had almost knocked down when they stupidly decided to play ball inside. It big large and colorful, and Sylvain remembered staring at the vivid depiction of a boat crashing in a storm every time he passed by it. Hell, there was even the small vase on the table by the dining hall, now empty, but once held beautiful roses that he would jokingly give Felix to tease him for being too girlish with Ingrid. Oh, how the times had changed.

He moved over towards a large portrait hanging in a hall, almost taking up the entire wall. It was of the late Rodrigue, sitting almost like some old English king. It was strange to think that he was dead now, lying in the trenches somewhere that no one would ever find. He was gone forever.

"He had it coming."

Sylvain turned over to see Felix standing beside him, and, startled, jumped a little.

"I expected you to come someday," Felix continued. "This place is quiet and full of strange memories."

"He was brave," Sylvain turned back at the portrait. Felix crossed his arms with a look of annoyance.

"He was no more brave than the rest of us. Only difference was he actually wanted to fight. He knew what he was getting into."

"Still... I think it was admirable."

"People think any fighting is admirable. Fighting without a choice is suddenly admirable now. I never asked for that. I mean, hell, I'd give up any admirability to never go through that again."

Sylvain thought quietly for a moment before giving a solemn nod. "That's fair. Though I still think you shouldn't be so harsh about your father."

Felix shrugged. "We just didn't get along that well. I'm angry he left behind so much to take care of."

"Hey, if you need help with anything, I'm available a lot of the time. There's not much to do these days, and spending time here is nice."

"If you want to," Felix nodded, "then do what you'd like. It doesn't bother me. I do have some money stuff to deal with right now, if you'd like to help with that. Let's go to the office."

After that day, Sylvain decided to make it a habit of his from then on to help out Felix whenever the had the chance.

It was like doing charity work for an old man, he realized, laughing to himself as he drove over to the Fraldarius estate for the fifth time that month. He forgot how well he and Felix got along, despite their... differences in viewpoints on certain things. He enjoyed spending time with him, though. In all honesty, he'd agree to moving in with the man to escape his parents, though he knew Felix would definitely lose it if he did that.

Ingrid had been pleasantly surprised to see them getting close, she also having gotten closer with Sylvain over the past month. Maybe, he thought, their old childhood group would reform eventually. That would be ironic, considering the things that had separated them. Especially since Felix would hardly even speak a word to Dimitri now.

He walked back into the manor, pleasantly looking forward to whatever he and Felix would do today. The last time, they helped sort out the garden, which was more work than Sylvain had anticipated. Hopefully today wouldn't be that labor-intensive. 

"Oh, you're back." Sylvain heard Felix's voice as he walked up the stairs and down the hall into what seemed to be Rodrigue's old room. Felix was there on the floor with his father's belongings scattered everywhere.

"Hello..." Sylvain noticed that they were random things from Rodrigue's war history, such as various medals and uniforms and other memorabilia. Valuable stuff.

"I'm trying to figure out what to throw out and what to store away," Felix explained as he picked up one of the old medals. "I don't really want to keep much of this."

"Why not?" Sylvain squatted down and looked at the assorted trinkets. Rodrigue had been in the military well before the war, so some of this stuff was really old, from the past century at least.

"It's all just gaudy objects celebrating him for killing people. Not like I have use for them."

"So you plan on just throwing them away?" asked Sylvain.

"Either that or donating them to people who want them. I have no family who could take all these medals and trinkets."

"How would you feel if someone got rid of all your stuff? These could be heirlooms!"

Felix looked down and shrugged. "I already got rid of my medal. Threw it away while still fighting."

Sylvain's eyes widened. "Threw it away? Why?"

"Why should I keep it? A piece of medal didn't end the war."

"No, but it shows your bravery!"

"What bravery? Killing people?"

"Helping people survive."

"The lives I saved should be proof of what I did, then. Not some scrap of tin."

Sylvain shook his head, knowing Felix would be too stubborn to argue about this. He somewhat understood, remembering how ridiculous his own mother was about his medal, though he still valued it nonetheless.

"I probably won't end up throwing this stuff away," Felix silently spoke after a moment, "if it makes you feel any better. This'll probably just all rot in an attic somewhere."

"Do what you want," said Sylvain. "It's your belongings. I should have no say."

Felix let out a sigh. "Alright. Well, I don't feel like putting all this stuff back now, much less look at it. Let's go outside for a bit and get out of this cramped room, it's nice out."

Sylvain nodded and followed him out to the backyard, which was filled with many plants and bushes that made the place look more peaceful. There were green bushes and a few flowers speckled here and there, seemingly well taken care of by the maid. Felix stood by the side of the manor, looking at all the scenery, and took a cigarette out of his pocket. He lit it, letting out a cloud of smoke after he breathed it in and exhaled.

"I don't even know if I want this whole estate, if I'm honest," he spoke rather solemnly, and Sylvain turned his head. 

"What would you do?" he questioned. Felix gave a shrug.

"Probably still keep it, but stay somewhere else. I think America seems to be doing well right now, since they aren't all depressed over the war like Europe is. More opportunity there."

"That's not a bad plan. I've considered it myself, honestly," replied Sylvain. "Just escape it all."

"I've heard the parties are great. The women too," he gave Sylvain a suggestive look, though Sylvain thought it almost seemed scolding instead of funny.

Felix continued, "It's not like I have any connections here anyways. Except you, I suppose. Though maybe you could join me," he let out a small laugh. "Running to America. Your parents would kill you."

"They would," Sylvain agreed. It really did sound nice, just running off with Felix and spending the rest of their lives in America. "Though I wouldn't care. They've been so... different since I came back from fighting."

"Haven't we all?" Felix threw his cigarette to the ground and stomped on it. "I get it, though. I lost contact with some old acquaintances ever since, and others acted strange to me. You saw me at the party. You and Ingrid are the only ones that haven't changed, though. I know I said everyone's changed, but really, you two are still the same."

"What about Dimitri? He was part of our little childhood group as well. He hasn't changed much, has he?" Sylvain thought Dimitri acted pretty much the same as he used to during the party, but Felix furiously shook his head.

"Oh, he's changed, all right. He's back to normal now, but you should have seen him out there. I ran into him once while our battalion was moving and he... was different. Animalistic. Like a boar. But now he's better. I don't trust him nonetheless."

Sylvain remained quiet. He hadn't run into Dimitri at all during the conflict, so he assumed everything had been the same despite all the rumors. He couldn't imagine the calm, composed man being able to burst in an "animalistic" rage, though he wouldn't be too surprised if he saw that either. Dimitri was a mysterious man.

"But I don't think we should dwell on the fighting. We have a whole future ahead now, after all," continued Felix. Sylvain was surprised at the amount Felix was rambling right now; he didn't do this with everyone. He felt rather special, cherishing what he was listening to.

"You're right. I always complain about how much people talk about it, but then somehow all my conversations steer back to it." Sylvain let out a sigh. Felix leaned back against the wall.

"In different news..." he cleared his throat, "I hear Mercedes is starting a bakery in London, with some help from Annette."

"We should go visit sometime," Sylvain said. "She's really sweet. I forgot how much I missed everyone. Including you."

Felix looked away. "Sure you did. I personally didn't care. Why should it matter that I see my old schoolmates again, anyways? We're adults now."

Sylvain scoffed. "Because you have so many other friends," he joked.

Felix looked back with a glare. "Oh, of course. I forgot I was talking to Mister Popular over here."

"I just talk to people. There aren't many I'd actually consider my friends."

"Except for the ladies."

Sylvain huffed. "Except for the ladies. Save for Ingrid; she's too much of a friend."

"How many girls have you even managed to 'seduce' yet?" Felix asked. Sylvain frowned.

"None of your business."

"So none?"

Sylvain didn't give a reply. "Of course," said Felix, "I forgot how you're all talk."

"I did spend time with one girl. Not so long ago."

"I'm guessing that she didn't want to spend any more time with you, or else you wouldn't be sulking outside here with me," Felix replied, and Sylvain crossed his arms.

"She just had different interests, that's all. Finding girls with similar interests as me nowadays is harder."

"It's probably because your only interests nowadays is looking at women."

"Sure. And how many ladies have you gone out with?"

Felix waved it off. "I don't have time for that. Things are too busy with what my father left behind. Can't have fun."

"Of course, of course." Sylvain laughed. "I actually haven't had much time either. Looks like we're both going to be lonely together."

"That hardly makes any sense."

"Oh, just go along with it." Sylvain leaned against the wall next to Felix, and the two stood and calmly watched the breeze sweep through the garden.

With the passage of another month, Sylvain went over to the Fraldarius estate for a few more times. His mother had arranged another party for one night, and suggested to invite Felix and some of Sylvain's other classmates.

"You've been spending so much time with Rodrigue's son lately. Why not bring him here? Along with some other of your old friends?"

Not necessarily a bad idea, Sylvain acknowledged, but he wasn't sure if he wanted his mother to bombard Felix with questions he would no doubt be sensitive about. Much less any of his other classmates either, who had all gone through their own hardships that his mother was almost definitely nosy to learn.

"A few, I suppose," he mumbled. "Him, Ingrid... maybe some more that were in my class."

"Ingrid... you're rather fond of her, aren't you?" his mother asked. Sylvain shrugged in reply.

"As a friend."

"Oh, but that's how the best marriages begin. I would look towards possibly proposing to her in the future, if I were you. Her family isn't quite as rich, though her skill is well-known. Oh, and we should invite Dimitri as well! If he comes, everyone will think it's a high-end party..."

Sylvain droned his mother out, focusing on what she had just said about Ingrid. She wasn't exactly wrong, per se, as marrying Ingrid wouldn't be the worst choice in the world for him. But did he really want to spend the rest of his life with someone he just considered a friend? Was he even close enough to anyone else to want to spend the rest of his life with them?

His mind flickered to Felix, but no, he couldn't do that. Of course, it would be odd for him to spend the rest of his life with another man. But out of everyone he knew, he had spent so much time with Felix already that if he had to choose the closest person to him... it would in fact be Felix. Going to America with him... it sounded nice. Felix was closer to him than any woman he had ever known or met. Even his own mother. Out of all the women he had pursued in his life, was he really more attached to Felix?

He shook the thought away, not ready to deal with that right now. "Just invite whomever you want. I'll be fine."

"Did you hear what I said about Ingrid, though? Stick close to her during the party. I know you're close to that boy, but now isn't the time. You and her would make a good married couple. The war's over, and you can spend time with girls now, like you used to. Anyways, help us clean up the house some more."

"Alright, alright. I will." Sylvain waved her off, already tired of his mother's pestering. He didn't mind hanging around Ingrid the whole time, since they were friends, but he'd much rather spend time at Felix's house instead. He still felt conflicted with his previous thoughts, though he could determine all his feelings at a later moment. For now, he had to focus on the task at hand.

He cleaned the house as best he could, hoping it wouldn't get too messy for the next two days until the party. He was rather tired of how many of these his mother held, though at least she wouldn't flaunt him off as much when people such as Dimitri were coming. If he were lucky, she wouldn't even see him the whole time, though he pitied whoever would. And his old schoolmates were familiar with his mother, too, so they'd know what to expect from her.

"Oh, you finished cleaning. Here's a list of things we need," she handed her son a slip of paper. "Try to get them by tonight. I want to set up everything tomorrow, then on the day of the party we'll do final check."

"Mother, this is just a night party, not a ball." Sylvain examined the extensive list, almost in awe of how many useless things his mother wanted. Why the hell would a house party need an ice sculpture? Where would he find that?

"It's a party that many rich families are coming to. If we want to impress and get you a wife, we'll need to be extravagant. Now go." She shooed him out the front door and he left, not looking forward to the journey ahead of him.

After a long, painstaking time collecting everything his mother asked him to find and bringing them back home (he even found an ice sculpture, somehow), Sylvain decided to go to invite Felix in person, so he could have an excuse to leave his household for a bit. He walked into the Fraldarius estate alone, giving a knock at the now-open door to indicate that he was there.

"Hello?" he called, and he heard steps upstairs. Felix walked down, looking relatively pleased to see him.

"Oh, hello, Sylvain. What's going on?"

"Just came over to invite you to my mother's house party. We're holding one in two days. She's inviting all these old schoolmates now that I reconnected with them. Says it'll elevate our status, and whatever."

"So you want me to come? I could. Depends if I feel like it that day."

"I just want someone to talk to there. Ingrid's coming too. My mom keeps annoying me about marrying her, though, so I might have to avoid the both of them."

"All this about marrying Ingrid again? You said you didn't love her like that. I'd feel bad if both of you didn't want to marry, but were forced into it." Felix started to fidget with his hands.

"Me too. But at least it would be her, and not someone else. As lovely as she is, I don't think I could handle marrying someone like Edelgard, for example."

"You'd lose many friends, that's for sure." Felix sighed. "Marry who you want, though. I shouldn't tell you what to do. If it's Ingrid, it's Ingrid."

Sylvain shrugged. "I suppose. Your input means a lot to me, though. I'm closer to you than anyone else."

Felix gave a huff. "Whatever. You could marry a boar for all I care."

"Well, if that's the case, then I hope you'd be my best man for that."

Felix snickered a bit, though something about it seemed off to Sylvain.

"You're so dense sometimes," he quietly murmured. Sylvain heard, but didn't understand enough to press about it, so he remained silent.

When the night of the party arrived, Sylvain's mother frantically checked the house to make sure everything was alright. He nearly had to pry her away from it all when the first few guests arrived, and soon the whole place filled up. The same people from the last party Sylvain went to were there— all his classmates and their relatives— along with some others. Random nobles and staff from his old school arrived. Even the Professor— though Sylvain unfortunately didn't have time to be preoccupied with that. He was busy hiding— he originally had planned to talk to Ingrid and Felix the whole time, but now Felix wasn't there for some reason and facing Ingrid would be too awkward with what his mother had said. Perhaps if he hid carefully, no one could find him.

"Hi Sylvain, your mother said you were looking for me?"

Sylvain looked over with a jolt from where he stood in the empty hall. He wasn't even sure how his mother or Ingrid knew where he was in the house, but there the girl stood before him.

"Uh... I was not." Oh God, did he really just say that to her? He regained his composure and cleared his throat, "Though I certainly appreciate your company anyways," he gave an embarrassed smile. For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to flirt with Ingrid like the way he did before with other women. Though it had been a while since he had done that properly, too.

"Oh... alright. She said it was urgent. Maybe she thought I was someone else. I'd expect her to have all the girls you know confused. What might you need help with, though?"

"Nothing. I'm very clearly just standing in an empty hall. How did you even find where I was?"

"I know these halls well, you might remember. You always would run to this area when we were younger," she looked around it as she reminisced. "I remember once Felix yelled at you when we were playing outside, and you ran into here because you were so mad. It took Dimitri, Felix, and I so long to find you."

"Hey, Felix can say some mean things! Even now," Sylvain scoffed.

"You've both hardly changed," Ingrid laughed and shook her head.

"Neither have you, to be fair," smiled Sylvain. "No one really did, at heart, despite it all."

Ingrid nodded. "That's true."

"So, how are you enjoying the party?"

"It's nice. Your mother really organized everything well."

"You know how she is," Sylvain scoffed. "Always trying to impress."

Ingrid shrugged. "She has good intentions. I do have a question about her, though, if you don't mind."

Sylvain perked up. "What?"

Ingrid hesitated. "Well, when she said that you needed me, she said it with a wink and a nudge. Do you really not have anything to say to me? I feel like she wouldn't say that to any other woman you knew."

 _Oh, dear_. Sylvain stiffened. "Well... I suppose I do..." He really hated his mother right now. Sure, he knew she would be pushy about it tonight, but to escalate things so quickly? Was she expecting a marriage by tomorrow?

"Do you like me? And you know what I mean by that, so don't act dense."

Well, Ingrid seemed to just go directly for it. Oh God, what could he say? Would he make his mother happy, or try to keep things platonic?

"...Yes... I do," he stammered out. For some reason he couldn't bring himself to be as comfortable with this as he was in the past, especially with Ingrid. He wished his mother had never said anything earlier. And why hadn't he seen Felix at the party yet, either? All sorts of anxieties started filling his head.

"You do? More than any of the hundreds of girls you've been with over the years?"

Well, nowadays he didn't get to talk to girls as much, he thought to himself. Now, he would just hang around in Felix's house and spent the days with him. Why did he care so much about Felix right now?

He nodded, and Ingrid gave a surprised smile. "R-really? So all this time we were friends, you liked me all along?"

"Well, that's usually how romances blossom, isn't it?"

"I mean... I never considered it. I never expected you, Dimitri, or Felix to ever see me as anything more than a friend. I've only reconnected you since a few months ago, and half of that time you were off at Felix's house doing God knows what. You two seemed too close for me to mean anything, I guess I thought. But now this is how you really feel, and I'm glad to hear it. I'm flattered."

Too close for her to mean anything? Sylvain never thought he and Felix spent that much time together. Though he did go to the manor a lot, and he wouldn't stop thinking of Felix even right now. And there was the thoughts he had about how he was closer to Felix than any woman— maybe they were kind of close? Though how would that impact this?

Then it suddenly hit him— why he was acting so weird, why he kept thinking about Felix, and why Ingrid was worried that the two of them were too close. He also finally realized why Felix had seemed off the day before when he mentioned his mother wanted him to marry Ingrid. But as he finally understood, Ingrid started to lean forward, and he found himself drawn into a kiss with her.

A kiss with a friend; Sylvain never really befriended any girls he kissed, so this was something different. He usually was so smooth during kisses, but this was unlike those other times.

It was awkward, to say the least. Ingrid pulled away after not too long and Sylvain did as well, and the two stood there in silence for a bit.

"That was weird," he said, and she let out a hearty laugh.

"Oh, definitely. Do you actually feel that way for me, or was it your mother forcing us to be together? I think I could tell from that kiss."

"All my mother. Sorry."

"Alright, good, because I don't feel that way for you either. I like being friends with you, but living with you for the rest of my life? I think I'd go insane."

The two laughed together, and Sylvain felt a large pressure leave his back. Or at least, one of them. But this was good, for their friendship and for Sylvain. It was nice to have a woman with set boundaries as a friend and nothing more.

"You seemed so distracted when that happened, too. Was something else on your mind? Or someone?" she smirked. "Since we've established we're just friends, you can know your secrets are safe with me."

Sylvain shrugged his shoulders, and Ingrid's grin deepened.

"Oh, that's the shrug you give when you're lying. Who is it? Is it someone here?"

Sylvain sighed. "I haven't actually confessed to them or anything. I actually... just realized I might like them..."

"Oh, so our awkward kiss is what enlightened you? Who is it?"

"Uh..."

"I promise I won't tell a soul. They wouldn't believe me, anyways; either that or they wouldn't care enough."

Sylvain firmly pursed his lips. _Well, here goes nothing_. "I think... I think I might be in love with... Felix..."

Ingrid suddenly gave a shocked expression. "Oh. Felix?"

Sylvain weakly nodded.

"I see..." replied Ingrid. "That explains a lot. That's nice, though. I didn't expect you to fall for... him. Especially with all the girls you flirt with. But if you really have those feelings for him, you should tell him."

"I don't know..." said Sylvain, but Ingrid put her arms at her hips.

"If you out of all people are hesitating to tell him, then he really must mean something to you, since your never like this with any of those girls. Go find him!"

"I don't even think he's here."

"So what? Go to his manor, then. Sylvain, I've seen you get together and break up with dozens and dozens of girls with zero remorse or care. You're strong. You can do it."

"I don't want to damage our friendship though."

"I get that. But I'd much rather know someone's feelings now than wonder about them constantly later."

"But it's so soon..."

"Look," Ingrid sighed and gripped Sylvain's shoulder, "it's ultimately your choice. But clearly this evening you were expected to end with someone. Make it someone you actually care about that way, if you have to. I believe in you."

Sylvain gave a slight chuckle. "Thanks, Ingrid. I don't know how I'll get past my mother, though."

"Oh, please. I can distract her. You're an adult, though. If she can't handle you, then that's her problem."

Sylvain let out a deep exhale, then nodded. "Okay. I'll go. Really, though, thank you. We may not be... romantically compatible, but you really are one of my best friends."

Ingrid grinned widely. "It's no big deal. This is just what friends do. Now, good luck."

After Sylvain had safely navigated his way off of his property and into a buggy, he drove straight to the Fraldarius Estate to see Felix. He was surprised, not only at Ingrid's positive reaction but to the sudden realization he had that all this time, Felix was the one he loved. He spent so much time with Felix, wishing he could live out the rest of his life with just him— how did he not catch onto this already? Had fighting really changed him so much that he couldn't even recognize his own feelings anymore?

The car pulled up to the place and Sylvain walked out, hands almost shaking in anticipation. Before now, he'd expected this night to be full of anxiety because of his mother. Now he was anxious due to his newly-recognized feelings and how rapidly Ingrid decided to help him act on them. At least she had been supportive, he thought and smiled to himself.

With every step he took out of the vehicle and towards the front door, he felt a mixture of excitement and dread. If Felix didn't actually feel the same way, then their entire relationship would be gone. Was it even worth the risk? Sylvain sighed, knowing that even if he did back out, Ingrid would definitely try to get him to confess again, so it might as well happen now. Better sooner than later.

He knocked at the door, and it was answered by Felix's maid.

"Oh, hello, Mister Gautier. Felix is upstairs in his father's old study. He said not to let anyone disturb him."

"I can do the disturbing, he'd be the least mad if it were me to annoy him. I'll be quick."

She considered, then gave a nod and let him inside. Sylvain walked down the halls and to the stairs, which he climbed with unease as he got closer and closer to Felix. He slowly opened the door to the study, and found Felix on the floor digging through his father's belongings again, staring at one of the medals. It seemed to be from Lambert.

"Felix." Sylvain cleared his throat. Felix looked up towards him.

"Oh, hello Sylvain. What happened? Isn't your mother holding a party right now?"

"I didn't feel like staying. Clearly you weren't interested, either."

"Guilty. What about Ingrid?"

Sylvain sharply inhaled. "That's not happening anymore."

Felix perked up in curiosity. "Why? Did she slap you when you suggested it, or something? Wouldn't be surprised."

"No, I—" Sylvain sat down next to Felix, glancing at all the stuff that was out. "We both decided not to marry or anything. It was too awkward. We both see each other as just friends."

"That's fine. You can probably find some other girl, anyways. It's good you two found an agreement, though. She's a good woman."

Sylvain nodded. But then he took a deep breath, and shook his head, "Well actually, one of the reasons it was so strange was because I did tell her I had feelings for someone else. Another old classmate."

Felix frowned, though it seemed different from his usual ones. Normally, he gave annoyed frowned or his "I'm moody" type of frowns, but he just looked distraught by this. "Please don't tell me you were serious about Edelgard."

That made Sylvain quietly chuckle. "No, uh... it's not."

"Well, spit it out. You don't have to be so insecure about girls around me, I couldn't care less about who you're pursuing. Just find it a little ridiculous you came from the party just to talk to me about this."

"I think you'd care."

"Please don't tell me it's someone I hate."

Sylvain inhaled, "Felix, it's you. I'm so dense, I didn't realize it until tonight."

Felix looked up from his father's belongings in a state of shock, though he only let so much shock show on his face before he regained composure. "Me? You're joking. Aren't you obsessed with girls?"

"I think... I might be fine with either," Sylvain meekly replied. "But all the time we spent together just made me realize... Felix, I'm in love with you. Every time I visited here, I couldn't help but think of how glad I would be to spend the rest of my life with you."

"So that's suddenly love? What about me is appealing, even?"

"Everything. Even your snarky attitude and insults to me," Sylvain smiled, though Felix silently looked down, which got Sylvain worried. A pang of doubt hit him and he nervously shifted over.

"Felix," he said, "if you don't feel the same, then I'm sorry. I'll leave now. I'll stay away from you, if that's what you want. It took me a while to realize this, but if you're uncomfortable with it, I... I can go."

"You're kidding me," Felix shook his head. "Do you remember that time we met on the battlefield, right after Miklan died and we saw each other for the first time in a couple of years?"

Sylvain narrowed his eyes. "Yes, I think so."

"You made me promise that we'd survive that war. You took my hand tightly and told me that we'd have to both live." Felix sighed, and looked up to meet Sylvain's eyes. 

"I do. In the tents."

"That's when I fell in love with you, Sylvain. It's taken you that long to realize it, you dimwit. Throughout the war, I kept thinking about how I'd get back and meet you again. Then suddenly there was Dimitri's party, and there you were. I kept my promise just for you."

"Really? All this time..." Sylvain wanted to smack himself for being so dense. _Back in the trenches..._

"Yes. So I'd say I do return the same feelings, but it took you so long to realize it that I still feel a bit bitter about it."

Sylvain grinned. "Okay, then. I'm fine with that. You're bitter all the time, anyways."

"Yes, but now you won't be able to escape my bitterness if you really meant what you said. So have fun with that."

Sylvain scooted closer to Felix, and quickly laced their hands together. "I did mean it. And I think I can handle it. You've already been able to handle me all this time."

"Fair point." Felix leaned his head on Sylvain's shoulder, and Sylvain felt warm at the contact. He couldn't believe it had taken him this long to realize his own feelings. If he told his past self that it would be Felix Fraldarius that he'd be in love with... no, even deep down then, he could probably understand it.

"Wait..." Felix suddenly asked, "does this mean Ingrid knows?"

"She does, and she was surprisingly supportive. She's a good friend, really."

"What about your mother? What do you plan on telling her?"

"I'll sort that out later. She isn't my top priority right now."

"Alright, but you better find something to say to her. Something tells me you didn't exactly plan this all the way through."

"God, I confess that I love you, and the first thing you do is complain to me," Sylvain laughed. "You sure were right about the bitterness."

Felix smiled. "It won't go away, either. So have fun with that."

Sylvain almost couldn't believe what had just happened, but despite the surprise, he was beyond happy at this. He now confidently knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Felix, and whether in Britain or America, he could stay like this with him for as long as ever. Maybe finally the two could move on from the war, and Sylvain could rebuild himself with Felix's help. Now, he could move forward from the things that held him back with Felix at his side. _Maybe things did change for the better..._

_January 14, 1916._

_Men laid beneath a canvas tent, their fellow soldiers watching over them as they slowly bled to death._

_Sylvain stood above an unresponsive Miklan, unable to do anything but stare at the body and watch the warmth slowly leave his brother._

_Meanwhile, a finger tapped at his shoulder. He turned warily, unsure what to expect, but to his surprise, it was a face he almost didn't recognize at first— the face of his old friend and classmate, Felix, giving him a look of concern. It had been months, maybe years since he last saw him. The man was at a loss for words, but Sylvain immediately drew him into a tight hug._

_"Felix... oh my God, you're here..." he muttered, and Felix reluctantly hugged back._

_"Out of all the people to see, you're the least I expected," he said as Sylvain drew back. "It seems you haven't gotten yourself killed yet, either."_

_"No... but Miklan..." Sylvain turned back to his brother's body. "I didn't expect to see him again like this. I never liked him, and he did some awful stuff to me, but... I feel bad. I traveled a long way to find him here. And now he's gone. Before I could even reconcile with him."_

_Felix put a hand on Sylvain's shoulder. "I'm sorry. This is just what happens during war. I wish I could tell you something better, but I can't. Hell, we could all end up like him tomorrow; I can't say for sure."_

_"Then all we can do is promise," quietly muttered Sylvain._

_"What?"_

_"Felix," Sylvain turned back around, "make me a promise." He took Felix's hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. "It's been years, but you were one of the closest people throughout my life. Let's both make it out of here alive. Even if we never see each other again. Promise me that whatever happens, we'll be both alive and happy when this all ends."_

_"Sylvain, I... I don't know how to ensure that."_

_"It doesn't matter. Just promise me."_

_"Well, I can't guarantee you about the 'happy' part, but..." Felix looked up to meet Sylvain's eyes. "Fine. We'll both survive. I promise. And we'll see each other again after this. I promise you that."_


End file.
